


a dragon's hoard

by writing_addict



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, BAMF Roy Mustang, Dragon Roy Mustang, Dragons, Edward Elric Needs a Hug, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Parental Roy Mustang, Post-Canon, Post-Promised Day, hohenheim is a good man but a bad father, no i do not explain why, personally i think he's a good character but sometimes u just gotta yell at him, roy is a dragon shifter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25960924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_addict/pseuds/writing_addict
Summary: Most dragons hoard gold or jewels. Roy hoards people.He doesn't much appreciate Hohenheim encroaching on his territory (even if it makes him confront the fact that, perhaps, Edward and Alphonse Elric are a bit more than just hoard to him. More like...hatchlings.)Gift for minnie123 completed!
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Roy Mustang, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 30
Kudos: 428





	a dragon's hoard

Roy was about five seconds from causing an _incident._

Now, he didn’t really hate Van Hohenheim. Really. The man was the sole survivor of a massacre that wiped out an entire empire, and indirectly the cause of it, as well as being over five hundred years old. That had to do something to a man’s mind, and that something was likely not _good._ He certainly wasn’t _happy_ about the man’s actions—namely, leaving Ed and Al behind, but he knew better than anyone that sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.

He hated this sacrifice—hated it—but he _understood._ He didn’t _hate_ him (though privately he thought Hohenheim certainly could have managed to send a letter or a card or at least try a phone call or two—though the homunculi likely could have tracked those as well). He understood him far more than he wanted to. He, too, couldn’t show affection to the people he cared for most without putting them at risk. He, too, wanted to keep the world safe but so often found himself falling short. He, too, failed his loved ones over and over and over.

Van Hohenheim was a terrible father, but overall a good man. With the best of intentions, but the worst of effects on his family. Father’s plan was stopped largely thanks to his foresight, but that didn’t erase the hurt in the youngest member of his team.

Al was different—Al, from what Ed had told him, was too young to remember when Hohenheim had left, who didn’t know him enough to hate him. Ed, though…from Ed’s furious ranting and rambling and even the rare sobbing breakdown, he’d gleaned that Ed had watched his father grow from warm to cold and then _leave_ in the span of a year, too young to really remember the good days and fixated wholly (and rightfully) on the hurt left behind. He couldn’t have known Hohenheim was leaving to protect them, and the pain was evidently the same regardless.

But hearing Hohenheim call himself their _father—_ it was grating on Roy, and he was _five seconds_ from shifting and setting the whole building on _fire._

It didn’t help that Ed’s scowl only grew deeper every time he heard the word, and Al winced a little every time. At least, Roy thought mutinously, he wasn’t saying he was their _dad._ Father was hard enough to hear as it was, but at least it had a simple definition, no emotions necessarily attached. _Dad—_ well, dad was a word that he, at least, thought should be _earned._ It was reserved for someone who genuinely cared and had been around to _show that,_ to love their children unconditionally and support them without hesitation. There wasn’t much he could do about it—the term was accurate—but it irritated him all the same.

He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he was anyone particularly special to the Elrics, just a military officer who was slightly less evil than the majority of the higher-ups. They certainly weren’t any more special to him than anyone else on his team. Definitely not.

But—

Well, they were his hoard. _His_ people. He supposed the dragon in him just—didn’t like anyone else laying claim to what it had decided was his.

He watched as Hohenheim turned to the boys—watched as they spoke, as Al answered questions with cheerful indifference, no more attached to this man who was more a stranger than a parent than Roy was to his own parents. Watched as Ed averted his eyes and grumbled out short, one-word answers, looking bitter and tired and a little bit lost.

_Yours,_ the dragon hissed. _Your hatchlings._

_No,_ he scolded it. _Not my hatchlings. They’re nothing of the sort. They’re part of my hoard, sure, but that’s it._

_Yours,_ it insisted right back, sounding angry now. The beast seemed to stomp, swishing its tail angrily as it padded in a slow circle. _Your little ones. Your hatchlings._

_Ed hates being called little—_

_Yours._

_And Al doesn’t even know me that well—_

_YOURS._

The dragon huffed angrily, and Roy felt smoke puff out of his nostrils, scales curling over his hands as Hohenheim— _oath-breaker, abandoner, a sire but not a father—_ and Ed— _little one, hatchling, not a dragon but full of fire all the same—_ spoke. Riza’s hand curled around his and squeezed lightly, and he glanced over at her. He wouldn’t act, if she didn’t want him to. He wouldn’t let the dragon out—

But her eyes were fixed on the brothers, on the man who left them behind, full of sorrow and grief and understanding, and he remembered Berthold Hawkeye (who left Riza, left his mate, his equal, his _queen,_ who used her like a pawn and dared to say Roy had failed to protect her), and—he— _shifted._

Yellow eyes blinked open, wicked and vicious and without pity or fear. Dark claws curled into the ground, each longer than a grown man and sharper than a blade. He was vaguely aware of people in the hospital waiting room screaming, of them fleeing away, but all he could see were his _hatchlings,_ small and helpless and standing beside a man who had left them behind. Trying to spare that man’s _feelings._

Well, that man had known of dragons, had seen them flying free before Xerxes was destroyed and Roy’s people went into hiding. He’d seen empires rise and fall, watched generations of shifters come and go, but Roy was a _dragon_ and his hatchlings were hurting and he had no mercy left to give. Not after watching Riza bleed, not after entering the Gate, not after watching Al give himself up and Ed give up something he loved.

He would spare Van Hohenheim _nothing._ And he would not give him his _hatchlings._

_“Shut. Your. Mouth.”_

His voice rumbled through the rapidly emptying room. He couldn’t quite unfurl his wings here, but he didn’t care—he was already bigger than most of this damn place, and if he had to crouch and flash his teeth and lock horns with the asshole in front of him, he would. He didn’t care what it took. These children were _his._ Ivory fangs flashed as he bared his teeth at the man, tail swishing over the ground. Only Riza’s hand on his foreleg kept him from surging forward and grabbing the boys, and breaking through the roof to carry them away.

_“You call yourself their_ father?” A scoff brought a puff of smoke from his throat, and his lips curled into a furious snarl. _“I don’t know what sort of delusion you’ve left yourself in, but what you did doesn’t make you’re their_ father. _I don’t give a shit whether it was to save them or not—you still left. You made them think you hated them—you made Ed think he WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!”_ His roar shook the room, claws leaving gouges in the tile flooring. Whatever. He’d pay for it later—he had gold to spare.

And besides, it wasn’t as important as _Ed_ right now—Ed, who was staring up at him, golden eyes wide and glossy, hands curling and uncurling at his sides, and Roy _knew_ he’d found the heart of Ed’s anger, of his hate. Because it was neither of those things. It was _hurt,_ and fear, and the thought that he wasn’t enough for the man who was supposed to be there for them and love them unconditionally. Ed was hurting because of this—this _asshole_ who thought his good deed could make up for years of emptiness. Ed had been hurting for _years_ because of it.

It was Roy’s job to protect him from hurt. To keep him _safe,_ to take care of him, to provide a roof over his head and the means to survive. He was already Ed’s legal guardian, or the closest thing he had—but he was a _dragon,_ and dragons loved their hatchlings fiercely, with every little bit of themselves. They were an utterly unstoppable force when their younglings were in danger, or hurt, or lost and alone, and right now Ed felt like all of those things. Ed felt like he was alone in his pain because Al didn’t remember it, because surely Hohenheim deserved his forgiveness now, surely, surely, surely—

But he didn’t have to. Hell, he didn’t have to forgive Roy for lying to him, for convincing him to join the military, for everything he’d failed to protect him from. He didn’t care if he never forgave him—as long as Ed was safe and alive and _happy,_ he was fine. He’d give up his damn _wings_ to make sure he stayed that way.

Distantly, he realized Hohenheim had wanted the same thing-that he’d given up everything he’d loved to ensure his boys wouldn’t follow his path, that another country wouldn’t suffer like Xerxes. But he didn’t _care,_ because Hohenheim had failed, and left two young children alone without anyone to look after them.

Well. Finders, keepers. Right?

_“Ed was right,”_ he spat, fire burning low in his throat as he eyed the man with contempt—barely aware that he’d called Ed by his name instead of _Fullmetal_ or _Major_ or any of the titles he’d used to keep the world, keep _himself_ from realizing how much he cared about him. Not that it mattered now—most of the more powerful officers were dead, and Ed was leaving the military, and he didn’t give a shit whether or not someone knew he cared about Edward Elric. He was goddamn proud to. _“You’ve been a shitty excuse for a father.”_

He swore he saw a look of grief—grief and _pride_ and _understanding—_ cross over Hohenheim’s face, but he didn’t bother dwelling on it. He wasn’t worth it, not really. The boys— _his_ boys—were, though. Always.

He reached over and plucked Ed up by the back of his shirt, looping his neck around to deposit him gently against his side before doing the same to Al. He curled around them, twisting so he could see them better, tucking them under a wing before blinking slowly at Riza. She let out a soft, tired laugh and leaned her forehead against his muzzle, before hopping over his foreleg to sit beside their little ones.

He closed his eyes, ready to drift off—before blinking awake as a hand poked his side warily. He opened one eye to find Ed staring back at him, golden eyes aching with something Roy couldn’t quite place. _“Yes, little one?”_

For once, Ed didn’t burst into a yelling fit at the implication of his height. Instead, he furrowed his brow, chewing quietly on his lip, before asking, “Why….why did you do that?”

If he was human, he might have cared more about softer words, about hiding his feelings, about playing the long game. But Roy was a dragon, and….he didn’t.

_“Because you are my hatchlings,”_ he said matter-of-factly. _“Mine. Does that answer your question, Edward?”_

Ed blinked—and then Roy chuffed quietly as he felt a small face tuck itself into the crook of his neck, felt a certain dampness leak onto his scales. He said nothing of it, though, instead purring softly as Ed croaked, “Thanks, bastard.”

Later they’d have to move, and Roy would shift back and apologize. Later, Ed would ask him if he’d really meant it, and Roy would say _every word._ Much, much later he would be presented with adoption papers, and two pairs of hopeful golden eyes, and he’d be signing them even as tears blurred his vision.

But that was later. Right now, he just wanted to hold his hatchlings until darkness fell again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed it--this was a gift for minnie123, and they requested some dragon roy yelling and hohenheim and cuddling the Elrics. There was a bit more yelling than cuddling, but it was still fun to write! If you want more information on how to support my writing and/or information on how to support BIPOC, please check out the pinned post on my tumblr: [wlwinry.tumblr.com](https://wlwinry.tumblr.com/)


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